


Some Fella

by empty_battlefield



Series: A Slice of Sadstuck [13]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Absent Parents, Abusive Bro, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Bullying, Childhood, Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, Coughing, Dead Parents, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Homophobia, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Not Sadstuck, One Shot, POV Dirk Strider, Sadstuck, Summer, Summer Camp, Teasing, Terminal Illnesses, dave is kind of implied to be mean, mostly because deuce and droog are just assholes, pulmonary hypertension, ten year olds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 20:36:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11494275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empty_battlefield/pseuds/empty_battlefield
Summary: Summer Camp is the last place 11-year-old Dirk Strider wants to be. He plans to grin and bear it, though--by keeping his mouth shut and his head down and not giving anyone a reason to pick on him.The giddy, green eyed kid he's sharing a cabin with, however--doesn't seem to care about any of that. Dirk quickly learns why young Jake English doesn'thave timeto.





	Some Fella

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! it's kind of been a while. But i forgot how much i like writing little fics like these, so here you go! It's a bit longer than what's the norm for me.

Skaia Summer Camp wasn't the ideal place Dirk Strider wanted to spend his summer. But his Bro started going to summer camp before he did—and their parents both agreed their boys ought to get away from the city once in a while, enjoy a nice _breeze_ for once. 

Dirk would rather be in his room, _breezing_ through a season of anime or two, or even chatting with some of his online friends. He wouldn’t be able to do that here—obviously because there wasn't a viable computer to log onto within a 30 mile radius—but also because the other ten-year-old boys here wouldn’t be like that. The other ten-year-old boys spent their weekends playing basketball or with their arm around the shoulder of another ten-year-old girl.

He wasn't worried though. Bro had told him, that if he kept his head down and his shades on—he would keep his nose out of trouble.

* * *

First thing off the bus—the kids were divided into cabins, four to a group. The first two boys Dirk got put with both dressed alike, in all black. Dirk knew them, and knew them to be troublemakers. One was tall and thin, the other short and rather pudgy. Droog and Deuce, were their names. They both wore an identical expression—a sour one that spelled out that they got separated from another friend, and were pissed to be stuck with Dirk instead. 

The third boy was funny looking, with glasses and large teeth that stuck out over thick lips and a strong jaw. He had messy black hair and green eyes that liked to squint at everything. 

The two boys in black didn't say much at all. The third proudly introduced himself as Jake English. 

Before Jake even set his bag down in the surprisingly spacious cabin—he began talking, nonstop, about everything under the sun, in a thick accent from God knows where—all the while squinting at everything and how great it was. 

"Shucks...this is a whopper of a room, isn't it?" Jake said, ogling at it all as he spun around himself in a dopey little circle. He plopped himself and his backpack—which looked twice the size of him—onto one of the center beds. 

Deuce and Droog exchanged a look. They bit down on their smiles as they appealed to Dirk for a response.

Dirk pursed his lips and said nothing. 

"Feel these sheets, fellas—they're as soft as a baby's rump," he said, running his fingers over the waffled fabric. "Grandma would say that it's soft enough for her to even sleep in, if she felt this!"

Droog sniggered. "You sleep with your grandma?" he asked sarcastically.

"Not much anymore," he replied flatly, and Deuce and Droog each raised an eyebrow. "When I was little I used to get scared, but I'm an adventurer now, and adventurers ought not to get scared."

"Are you two twins?" Jake said, effectively changing the subject. It was like this kid's brain ran like a bumper car spinning out of control at two hundred miles per hour.

Deuce and Droog failed to realize at first that Jake was addressing them. "Yo, do we look like twins to you?" Deuce giggled. 

"You could've fooled me!" Jake guffawed like he was in on the joke, and the boys suppressed laughter again. "You could be like Tia and Tamara as far as I can tell!"

Droog's brow crinkled. "Tia and Tamara?"

"Y'know, from _Twitches?_ " Jake said. The boys' faces were paralyzed in nonrecognition. "The Disney channel original movie. It's a portmanteau. _Twin witches_ , get it? Quite clever, if you ask me!"

The mention of Jake still watching Disney was all it took to send Deuce and Droog off the edge into a howls of uncontrollable laughter. Dirk bit his lip to keep a smile behind his lips.

"Yeah. Easy there, fellas. Don't want to knock yourselves silly," he said uneasily when the two boys wouldn't stop laughing at him.

Jake's brow puzzled up, and he looked to Dirk for an explanation. Dirk looked away and went about unpacking his bag instead. He felt secondhand embarrassment for Jake, but he really meant to mind his own business. 

Jake brushed it off, and copied Dirk's idea. "We all ought to turn in rather soon, I think," he said. He took a few things out of his bag—a case for his glasses and a water bottle, both of which he set on the nightstand. He also pulled out a stuffed plushie, which he set delicately on the bed. 

"What is _that?_ " Droog asked. 

Droog was pointing at the toy, which could best be described as not any animal, but a ghost, the head of which had—could they be _horns?_ The double wavy horned ghost had a mostly white body, but its glasses and sour facial expression were detailed with faint green. The plush was clearly old and worn, and the white was fading into a not-so-white. 

"Him? Oh, that's Mr. Erisolsprite!" Jake exclaimed, holding the toy out for Droog to see.

"Did he take a roll in the mud?" Droog snickered, pointing out the faded fabric.

"My mum and dad gave him to me when I was little," Jake replied as he examined the toy, "and so he's been through a bit of a rough and tumble since then." He replaced it carefully against the pillows. 

Deuce and Droog each shot another glance Dirk's way when Jake wasn't watching. 

"You'll have to excuse me, fellas," Jake said. "I think I have to go to the bathroom." Only he said it like _bahr-throom_ , which only made the boys snigger more. Jake disappeared out the door. 

The door slammed shut, and Deuce and Droog started laughing hysterically.

"I can't take this kid," Droog said, shaking his head. He tried to share a sideways smile with Dirk.

Dirk blinked behind his shades, but kept his face stoic. He resumed unpacking. 

"What a dumbass!" Deuce giggled. "He has no clue how to even keep his cool. He sleeps with his stuffed woobie—he's freaking ten years old!"

Droog snickered. He picked up the toy by its curly white tail. "He really needs to wash this thing."

Deuce was up in an instant, unscrewing the cap off of his water bottle and holding it over Mr. Erisolsprite, and Jake’s bed. 

Dirk crossed the room and took hold of Deuce's chubby wrist. He gave him a glare behind his shades as Deuce suppressed a laugh. "Don't do that," he said. 

"Coming to your husband's aid? How cute," Deuce giggled. 

Dirk didn't break eye contact. "I don't want you to get all of us in trouble. You think that kid won't tattle first chance he gets?"

Droog and Deuce exchanged a smirk, then Deuce recapped the bottle.

Dirk reached for the toy, but Droog tossed it over Dirk's head to Deuce, who was somehow now standing behind him. _How the hell did he even get back there so fast?_ Suddenly Dirk was caught in the thick of a game of monkey in the middle, as the rowdy boys tossed and kicked Jake's talisman back and forth over his head.

Finally Dirk had Deuce cornered, with no way of escape. "Fine," Deuce said. "Have this filthy shitsack." Deuce took a step back, tossed the plushie in the air, and swiftly kicked it into Dirk's chest. 

Dirk's breath clenched as the force behind it hit him hard. He tried not to let the boys see him winded.

When Dirk turned around, Deuce stood faithfully by Droog at the door. 

Droog smiled. "We're going over to the girls' cabins," he declared. "Care to join us?" he offered jokingly. 

Deuce snickered. 

Dirk stood up straight and pursed his lips. "As much as I hate this place, I don't wanna get myself thrown out," he replied coolly. 

"Of course. Dirk Strider—wouldn’t want to make any trouble," Droog sneered before leading Deuce out the door for good.

After they slammed the door shut, Dirk examined the toy. Although the plush was rather dirty, he was pretty sure Droog's new footprint would be noticed by Jake. He absently tried to rub away the brown streaks with the edge of his shirt, when the doorknob began to click loud in his ears. 

_That was Jake, returning from the bathroom._ The toy felt hot in Dirk's hands, and he knew it was too late to put it back. He needed to clean Droog's footstain off before Jake could see it. In a fit of panic, Dirk tossed the toy behind his own bed in an effort to conceal it, just as Jake walked through the door. 

Dirk couldn't help thinking that he never would have run into any of these problems if he had just kept his head down and minded his own business. 

"Where are the other fellas off to?" Jake asked plaintively, like a child.

He thought about Deuce and Droog putting their arms around ten year old girls in the other cabins. "They went out," Dirk replied shortly. 

"But—" he complained, "nobody is allowed to leave the cabins after 7pm or before 6am, unless accompanied by a buddy and in the case of emergency—"

Dirk abruptly cut him off. "They just _went out_ , okay."

Jake looked confused for a hot second, his dark eyebrows crinkled and his front teeth resting on frowned lips. "Um. Okay."

A moment after, Jake's lips spread into a smile again, and he sat on his bed and bounced a bit on the mattress. "I was surely expecting that we would have to pitch our own tents and book it by ourselves in the woods," he said. "But it's awesome because that means we get to be cabin mates! What's your name, chap?"

He was too lost in his own thoughts to realize that Jake had asked him a question. "Dirk," he replied. 

Jake's face brightened at the answer. "Ello, Dirk! Nice to meet you, good man!" Jake stuck out a hand for Dirk to shake. 

Dirk took it—tentatively slipped his spidery fingers into Jake's outstretched palm. "Nice to meet you too."

He looked at his empty bed and frowned. "Dirk, you haven't happened to have seen Mr. Erisol, have you?"

"Um," Dirk replied, feeling a sinkhole form in his stomach. If Jake found out he knew exactly where it was, he'd assume Dirk had hid it. "Maybe he fell under the bed?" he lied, cringing at his own use of _he_ and not _it_. 

Jake knelt down on the floor, and sure enough, came up empty handed. "No," he mourned. He went to look under Deuce and Droog's beds, and obviously came up with nothing. 

"Maybe I could help you look," Dirk said. He felt nausea climbing into his head, and guilt sinking further into his stomach. 

"Please do," Jake said plaintively. "My mum and dad gave him to me, and if I lose him, Grandma will be livid..."

Dirk got up from the bed and began pretending to search, guiltily. After a while, he realized Jake wasn’t going to give it up. He picked Mr. Erisol out of a pile of clothes at the foot of his bed, and presented him shamefully to Jake. 

Jake's face brightened. "Aha! There you are!" He grabbed the toy from Dirk's grasp. "Where did you find him?"

"Uh. There," he replied, pointing vaguely to his corner of the room. “We hid it. Me and the other boys. We thought it would be funny.” Dirk couldn’t help but feel the need to confess and apologize. He too felt complicit in the act. He’d smiled when he’d found out Jake still watched the Disney channel.

“Thank goodness,” Jake said breathlessly. Jake didn't seem to notice the footprint. Perhaps he was just happy to have found it. Or perhaps he was incredibly stupid. “My cousin John likes to hide him from me sometimes, when I sleep over his house. He’s fourteen. It’s a rather cruel prank, really,” Jake babbled on. “I couldn’t imagine losing him forever, though.” He hugged the stuffed animal close to his chest. “He’s special.”

" _Special?_ " Dirk asked. He didn't _want_ to laugh at Jake, and strongly resisted the urge to do so. 

"Yes," Jake replied, clutching it tightly. "I've lived with Grandma since I was five, but he's from before, when I lived with Mum and Dad."

"Wait," Dirk asked. "Where _are_ your parents?"

Jake looked up, and pointed at the ceiling. 

Dirk knitted his brow for a second—then understood what Jake meant, and felt like slapping himself in the face. He didn’t know Jake was religious, either. "I'm sorry," Dirk said flatly. 

"It's alright. I forgive you. Just don't do it again."

Dirk nodded, not saying anything. He didn’t think he deserved Jake’s blind forgiveness. He and Jake each got dressed and ready for bed in silence. 

"Nighty night," Jake said as he climbed into his bed. 

"G'night."

* * *

Dirk suddenly awoke to a noise. It definitely sounded maybe like it was coming from the other bed. It sounded like it could've been—hiccups? Dirk's ears had not yet tuned in to wakefulness. His eyes, though, were well adjusted to the dark—they always had been from wearing shades all the time. Dirk silently looked around the room, and saw that Droog and Deuce had not returned from their nightly rendezvous. 

Dirk finally shifted in bed, propping himself up with one elbow. He reached for the light switch and slid on his pointy shades at the same time. 

Jake was sitting up in bed. He had his glasses on and he was coughing forcefully into his fist. When Jake looked over at Dirk, he was a little ruddy over his freckled cheeks—either from embarrassment or the effort, Dirk couldn't really tell. 

Jake's round face looked surprised to see him awake. Jake managed to convert it to a half-smile between fits. "Sorry to have woken you up," he said. 

Dirk stared at him, face still. "Are you okay?"

"Ah, don't worry, mate! I'm quite alright." He reached for a bottle of water readied on the nightstand. "What serendipity, though—that the other fellas have gone out. I'm glad at least them two got a bit of shut eye!" He laughed a bit, which quickly turned into a cough. He suppressed it with a swig of water. 

Dirk didn't have the heart to tell him that sleeping was probably the _last_ thing they were doing. He himself didn’t want to know what boys did when they snuck into girls’ cabins. He honestly wondered if Jake even knew what sex _was._

Jake's breath had calmed down a bit, and he gave Dirk that winning, buck-toothed grin. God, that kid was _always smiling._ He sat criss-cross applesauce on the bed, with the water bottle between his legs. 

"You good?" Dirk asked warily. 

Jake nodded. "Yep! Unfortunately that happens once in a blue moon. Grandma keeps saying I don't breathe too good when I'm lying down, and that I ought not to," he said. "My apologies that you had to see it, though."

Dirk got confused. "Is—is something the matter with you?"

Jake's face crinkled up in nonrecognition. "Something—the matter?" he repeated blankly. Then he figured it out. "Oh. Right. My doctor says I have pulmonary hypertension," Jake said, no longer completely cheerful.

Dirk sat up. "What, is that like diabetes? My cousin has that."

"What? Er, no," Jake says. "Dr. Jane says my heart doesn't pump blood all the way to my lungs. So unfortunately, I'm mostly going to have to take a time-out while you chaps are playing sports."

"So does that mean you're gonna die?" Dirk asked, trying not to sound too incredulous. 

There was a long pause. "I got it from my mum and dad," he said, "And that's why I live with Grandma now." He bit his lip for a moment. Then his downcast eyes brightened, and turned to him excitedly. "But they've got me on some new medicine now, and Dr. Jane says it ought to help me lots. I've been feeling loads better, so I'd say it's doing its job!" He flashed a winning smile again, laughing a bit. 

Dirk smiled back, closed lips. He felt bad for Jake, ten years old and pretending he's not going to die someday. 

Jake changed the subject to rake out the awkward silence that had accumulated. Or maybe it was because thoughts in his brain tended to shoot around randomly like pinballs. "Why are you wearing those sunglasses if it's not light out?" he asked Dirk. He adjusted his own. "Are they prescription, like mine? Cause that would be sweet as!"

Dirk wished for the silence again. He told Jake that he can see clearly without them. 

Jake's face bunched up quizzically. "Then why on earth do you wear them inside?"

"My bro tells me to," Dirk answered. He didn't care to mention that taking them off would earn him a thorough ass-pounding. He added, "He says I look stupid without them."

"Oh, mate, he was probably just pulling your leg," Jake said. "Let's see you fine and clear."

There was another awkward moment of still air before Dirk realized Jake expected him to take his glasses off. If Jake knew what he looked like, he sure as hell didn’t have any friends to tell. Dirk slowly took them off and folded them up. 

Jake's eyes squinted, and then widened. "Your eyes—" he gasped, "are they orange?" Before Dirk could answer, he scrambled over to Dirk's bed. 

Dirk flinched when Jake's weight hit the other end of Dirk's mattress. "They're reddish brown, yeah," Dirk replied. "Kind of runs in my family, I guess? My bro's are straight up red."

"Gadzooks..." he gushed under his breath, continuing to gawk at Dirk's face. "I sure wish _those_ kinds of things ran in _my_ family." He sat back on his knees. "Why do you hide them all the time, mate? They're quite the humdinger, eh?"

"They're stupid."

"Oh, indubitably they're not," Jake said. "That's a load of malarkey your brother was laying on you, I'm sure." He bounced on his knees, annoyingly making the mattress shake. "I have to wear mine. You though—you ought to keep those where a fella can see them!"

Dirk looked down at the shades in his hands, toying with them awkwardly with his fingers. He didn't say anything.

Jake must have seen that talking about his brother and all that was making his new friend uncomfortable. He said, "Look, I didn't mean to be a bad comrade. Grandma says sometimes I prattle too much."

Dirk nodded. As Jake climbed back into his own bed, and Dirk lied down in his, placing his shades on the table, and burying himself into the sheets. He shut his eyes. 

Jake did the same. He let out a few weak coughs as he lied down. Dirk could hear him continuously shifting around in the bed as he tried to find a good position to sleep in. 

Dirk cracked one eye open. The light was still on. Jake struggled to arrange his two pillows in a way that supported his back. 

Dirk watched him for a while before saying, "Just take the ones off Deuce and Droog's beds, if you need more."

Jake turned to him in surprise. "I couldn't," he replied uneasily. "Everyone gets two for good reason, it wouldn't be right to pilfer them from our mates for when they get back—"

"They're not going to come back," Dirk blurted out finally. "They snuck into the girls cabin tonight."

Jake looked flustered. His mouth was slightly open, with his prominent overbite on display. "Oh. Did they at least invite you to tag along?"

"Yeah," Dirk replied casually. "But—it's not really my scene, so I didn't go."

He closed his mouth, making a sort of nodding gesture. "That's very capital of you, Dirk," Jake said thoughtfully. He climbed out of bed and gathered the pillows from the other two beds and piled them on his own.

He smiled. "It's just you and me then, eh? Could be kind of like a slumber party! Just you and me, and Mr. Erisolsprite." He cuddled the stuffed toy in his arms. "What would you say to that?"

Dirk let himself a rationed smile. "Cool."

"Okey doke!" Jake said cheerfully. He took one last swig of water and set his glasses on the nightstand. He shimmied into the pillows with Mr. Erisolsprite tucked under one arm. 

Dirk shut the light off for him. 

In the darkness, Jake's voice came very small. "Dirk?"

"Yeah?"

He said, "Thank you for not letting me fly solo, there. You didn't have to do that."

"It was nothing."

Jake said after a pause, "Not—really. I, I don't know if you're aware of this, but—well, as Grandma likes to put it, getting along with the other boys isn't really my strong suit. So, it means a lot that one with as much moxie as yourself, would take kindly to a gun-shy fellow, like _my_ self."

Dirk didn't say anything. _Moxie,_ he thought to himself. As in _coolness._ He didn't have the heart to tell him that he had about as much _moxie_ as a rat drowning in wet concrete. 

"And I hope that you don't let your brother's chagrining get to you, either," he added. "He's a scoundrel who wouldn't understand chivalry of it hit him in the dadblasted face."

Dirk knew Jake could hear him smile as he spoke, but he didn't care. "Scoundrel? That's a good one, Jake. I'm gonna call him that next time he wants to strife."

Jake let out a strained chuckle. "Right." He coughed. "Well, nighty-night, Dirk."

"'Night."

* * *

Dirk was roused from sleep by noises, not his alarm clock.

He forced his eyelids to open.

Jake was up, bustling about the room—already dressed for the day. He was stuffing the last few of his things into his oversized backpack. He looked about ready to hustle out the door. 

Dirk sprung upright out of bed so fast it left his head spinning with dizziness. "What time is it?"

Jake seemed alarmed to see him awake. "Five thirty, mate," he said slowly. "You're not unpunctual."

Dirk relaxed his shoulders, and a dull headache settled into his head. Wake up call is at six. "Wait—where are you going?"

Jake slung his bag over one shoulder. "I'm down to the med cabin," he said rather awkwardly. "There's some medicine I've got to take before we go off today."

Dirk took in the downcast look that had settled into Jake's dark features. He did a quick once over of the room. The boys weren't back yet, but Jake had replaced their pillows and made all three of their beds perfectly. 

Dirk quickly fixed up his own—pulling the sheets and punching the pillows into place. "Well, who's going with you? You're not allowed to go anywhere before six AM without a buddy, y'know."

Jake blinked. "Oh...well, I guess I was just going to go by myself."

"Hold on," Dirk said. "How long do I have to get some clothes on?"

Jake glanced at his big black wristwatch. "About 5 minutes."

Dirk snatched a T shirt and basketball shorts up from a crumpled pile from the floor, and he pulled them on. He shoved his feet into his shoes and ran a hand uselessly through his tameless spikes of hair.

"Ready."

Jake gave him a baffled look. Then he grinned. "Shucks, buster—lets go then!" he said, pushing open the door to the cabin.

"Uh—shucks...buster?" Dirk asked, following him out the door. 

"Oh. That's something Dr. Jane always says to me," Jake explained. "She says it's an _exclamation_."

"Oh. Oops."

Dirk felt the light pierce him the minute he walked out the door. He grunted in pain and covered his eyes with his wrist.

"You alright, mate?" Jake asked concernedly. 

"Left my shades inside," he grumbled. 

Jake paused his walk. "Run in and get them then."

"Nah. It's fine."

"Are—are you sure?" Jake asked uneasily.

"Yeah. I've already made you late, so." Dirk kept walking. He was sort of alright with his eyes being on full-disclosure display like that, out on the empty hills in the early hours of the sunrise.

Jake followed, and Dirk could hear Jake smiling beside him, even though he didn't dare to look, since he was barely blocking the rising sun. "You're some fella, aren't you Dirk?"

"Yeah. I guess if you say so."

**Author's Note:**

> All comments or questions about this story are always appreciated at any time!


End file.
